


Your Just Rewards

by Gilboron



Series: Gilboron's Awful Smut [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: Deepthroating, Dubious Consent, F/M, Non-Consensual Groping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-11 02:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5611225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilboron/pseuds/Gilboron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annoyed with the lousy enchantment on Azura's Ring, the Nerevarine decides to go for a more carnal reward instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Just Rewards

**Author's Note:**

> I may have cheated a bit on this one, as about half of it was already written a few years back. I never finished that fic though, so I decided to do that now (as I’d been busy with the holidays…). There may be a noticeable inconsistency in styles as a result, but really, who’s reading this anyway?

_ Too late. This is the end. The bitter, bitter end… _

Weary and worn, you stumble through the rusty iron doors that separate Akulakhan’s Chamber from the Facility Cavern. Only a few moments ago your veins were pumping with adrenaline, but now that the fight is over, the fatigue of battle suddenly washes over you. Bruises on your shoulder and your back, a gash across your chin, blisters on your palms… Your wounds don’t even hurt anymore. You are just… tired.

You slump against the rocks next to you, heaving a burdened sigh as you try to gather your scattering thoughts. You did it. You really, really did it. You finally managed to end the Blight. You destroyed Akulakhan, and above all else, you actually killed a god: Dagoth Ur. The wall you are leaning against rumbles and a muffled roar from the mountain’s fiery bowels reminds you that the cavern could collapse at any moment. However, to your own surprise, you are utterly indifferent about the danger. You’ve done enough, haven’t you? You have saved Morrowind, and the Empire at large. You slide down towards the cavern floor, as your eyelids grow ever heavier. The thought springs into your mind that they may close for the last time. That’s fine, right?

However, just before you can drift asleep, a metallic glint catches your eye. You look, and in the middle of the cavern, as if she has always been there, stands a Dunmeri woman. Her sky-blue dress and silver jewelry are such a stark contrast with the rocks that you begin to wonder how you hadn’t noticed her before. Then you recognize her as the deity that guided you along this quest: Azura, Daedric Prince of Dawn and Dusk. She must have simply… appeared.

“You no longer bear the burden of prophecy. You have achieved your destiny… You are free.” Her soothing voice sounds like a song, echoing in a hall far greater than the small cavern. Her words draw a half-hearted smirk on your lips. It has been a long time since you were truly free - first you were bound by chains, then by duty, and then by fate. “If you have pity, mourn the loss, but let the weeping cease. The Blight is gone, and the sun’s golden honey gilds the land. Hail savior, Hortator, and Nerevarine!” That smirk slowly grows into a smile, as her speech invigorates you with newfound pride. You can almost feel the will to live seeping back into your body. “Your people look to you for protection. Monsters and villains great and small still threaten the people of Vvardenfell, yet indomitable will might rid Morrowind of all its ills.” She is right; you can’t just give up and die here. There is still plenty of work to be done. “For you, our thanks and blessings. Come - take this thing from the hand of god.” Gracefully she stretches out an arm in your direction. Slightly above her palm, a single ring gently hovers in the air. An artifact? It wouldn’t be an unwelcome gift; after all you’ve been through. Moreover, to face the challenges you are yet to overcome, you could use some divine help.

The ring is exquisitely detailed. White gold and silver intertwine like vines, as if the metal was grown rather than forged, and a veritable slab of yellow sapphire adorns the band. Even without the blue and green energy visibly flashing across its surface you’d have guessed it had a powerful enchantment, so you barely hesitate before reaching out and taking the artifact. With only a small struggle you slip it across Wraithguard’s brass finger plate, and immediately you feel your sore muscles relax, your fatigue miraculously vanishing. However, not much else happens, no matter how long you wait or how hard you concentrate. You don’t feel stronger or smarter, or suddenly capable of casting a powerful spell. No matter how much you fiddle with the ring, twisting it around your finger as if you might have put it on the wrong way, nothing changes. Nothing except your expression, which turns sour as you look up at Azura? Her smile is as warm as ever, but that just makes her seem ignorant of your disappointment.

“Is… Is that it?” After several moments of silence, you timidly manage to speak up. You are not used to questioning someone of such great power, after all. To your chagrin, she does not respond, so you repeat yourself. “Is that really it? Some piece of jewelry that’s weaker than a cheap potion?”

She shakes her head, still keeping that ever-more-annoying smile. “The road ahead holds promise of fame and glory, Incarnate. That path is its own reward.” But the road ahead holds promise of danger and death, as well. You may have killed a god, but you are not a god yourself; you’re neither immortal nor invincible. Altruism is one thing, but this just feels like a slap in the face.

You run over the remaining options in your head, wondering how to get a more fitting reward. Flattery? Intimidation? Bribes? None of those seem like they would work on an all-powerful deity. There is no anchor for Azura’s power that you could conceivably destroy, either, as you just did with Dagoth Ur. Then again… She seems just like an ordinary mortal now. An extraordinarily shapely mortal, but mortal nonetheless. Now that you look at her, you notice that Azura’s Ring might have had some minor effect: your eyesight is a lot clearer, a lot sharper than it used to be. You can almost feel the softness of her skin and the fragility of the dress, just by looking. Yeah, you could definitely overpower her corporeal avatar. If worse comes to worst, she’d simply fade away - she wouldn’t want to harm her prized champion, right?

In one swift motion, you pull Keening from the sheath on your belt and jab the blade upwards, stopping yourself with the edge barely half an inch from Azura’s throat. Eerily enough, her smile does not disappear, and for a moment, you feel yourself waver. “Look, I know you are a god,” you begin to say, trying to find confidence in your own voice. “And any threat to your corporeal avatar or whatever is no real threat to you, but… If you don’t give me something better for my troubles, I’ll-” Your mind goes blank. What will you do, exactly?

Somehow, as if she can sense your hesitation, Azura’s smile widens even more. “Incarnate, lay down your weapons. All that I have to give has been given.” Even if she’s probably telling the truth, your pride feeds your paranoia and you step even closer to pat her down. Surely, she must have some other valuables on her - wards or artifacts to protect her corporeal form. However, there is nothing hidden underneath the satin folds - nothing at all. Not even underwear. Her skin is even softer than what it looked like, unnaturally so, barely wrinkling as it stretches over her slender form and slopes into her crevices. The silky sensation is irresistible, almost addictive… You just cannot seem to stop yourself! “I have nothing to hide. Should you not rest these battle-worn hands?” She feigns serenity, but you can tell her voice has subtly changed. Is it distress? Could a Daedric Prince truly feel threatened by a mere mortal like you?

Suddenly, the realization hits you like a spell of Fortify Intelligence - Keening. This dagger was specifically designed and forged to flay and focus the divine power of Lorkhan’s Heart - why wouldn’t it affect other divine powers as well? This is your chance - your chance to claim a worthy hero’s reward. Your chance to bed a god. Aggressively you move your hand down even further, clamping it into the valley of her nethers. You are surprised - even though you shouldn’t be - by how different her slit feels from those of mortal women. It feels inviting, in a way you have never experienced before. Her labia puff out, part easily for your exploring fingers, and soon you’re freely rubbing her vulva through her dress, your palm grinding against her clit, and your digits prodding as deep as the satin barrier will allow.

Azura gasps, with the spontaneity of a mortal but with the grandeur of a god. As if her body alone wasn’t enough, the trembling gasp really gets your blood flowing. Already the codpiece of your greaves is becoming incredibly cramped, as your slowly stiffening cock tries to force its way out. Nevertheless, you force yourself to savor the moment for as long as you can. Even Kagrenac’s tools cannot make history repeat, so it’s the only chance you will ever have. As your hand continues doing its work, you slowly trace your blade down her chest, a hair’s width away from her skin. You can feel her shiver, unable to move under the threat of Keening, helpless as the sharp edge makes a clean cut through her dress. You stop at her abdomen, having cut just enough to expose her torso. Like this, she looks a lot more like the sculptures that represent her… Your smirk returns and you move the blade back to her throat, leaving her dress in its current state, for now. “No wonder your statues are always topless… I’m surprised you managed to find the dignity to wear a proper dress.” You do not know why you are taunting a goddess, but the words seem to come naturally, even though you’ve never spoken like that before.

For a moment, you wonder if you’re not going down a slippery slope here - but a throbbing in your greaves takes you back to the present. No matter how strong your desire to draw out this moment, you simply need release. Your hand travels down, fumbling with clasps and buckles for a few moments before the metal plates clatter against the rocky floor. A few moments later, your leather and linen underclothes are out of the way too, and your rigid length pushes out into the open, landing against Azura’s dress. Again, its otherworldly smoothness amazes you, as the silk wraps against your pulsing cock. Without any other touch, this coaxes a thick wad of precum to ooze into a sticky stain on the fabric. You’d swear you saw the goddess’s nostrils flare up for a split second.

But, you didn’t take off your greaves just to sully fine tailorship. You grab her bare shoulder, and keeping Keening’s edge close to her gullet, you force her down on her knees. As she obliges, your pre-drooling cockhead slides up, first along her silk-draped crotch, then along her bare midriff and supple chest, until it rests against her unnaturally soft cheek. You can tell she’s trying her best to appear unwavering - though what emotion she is hiding isn’t as easily read. “Maybe you’ll actually give me something worth the risks I took now,” you scowl, once again finding the words escaping your lips before they even cross your mind. Azura isn’t eager to jump at your invitation - understandably so, even if you take your use of force out of the equation. You’ve just been through one of the toughest fights of your life, in an active volcano no less, so you are positively soaked with sweat, and there are patches of caked-up blood and dirt all over. Nonetheless, you insist, pressing Keening right up against her skin, just barely avoiding a cut. Azura trembles. For a second, you think you might have gone too far, but then she hesitantly parts her lips. With slow and deliberate movements, she repositions her head such that she’s face-to-face with your dick, without actually making physical contact. Her eyes narrow with disgust - though at your current viewing angle, it’s hard to be sure.

She sticks out her tongue, apprehensively pressing it against your cockhead. Not a lick or a lap - just simple first contact. And while the touch is short-lived, she does not seem as repulsed as she thought she would be. Though it might just as well be that she just wants to get things over with quickly, she immediately follows up with a proper lick, adding a trail of saliva to your pre-existing coating of sweat. In fact, she seems to already want to proceed to the main event, but you grasp her tightly knit bun to stop her. She’s not wrapping things up that easily. “Be thorough,” you bark at her. This time, she stares up at you with a defiant glint in her eyes - but yet again, she complies. She leans down, starting from the bottom, lapping at your balls with her velvet tongue. From the feeling of it, she has taken your command to be thorough to heart - she pushes into every crease and wrinkle, no matter how sweaty or dusty it might be, and tops off her work with a wet, suckling kiss. It’s enough to coax another wad of pre out of your system, which drips and soaks into your fingers and her hair.

When your ballsack is completely clean, she moves on to your cock, working the vascular shaft from bottom to top. Her meticulousness is such that you’d almost believe she was taking pride in it! When she reaches your glans, and curls the tip of her tongue around the rim to make sure she’s got everything, you reach the point where you cannot contain yourself any longer. Thick wads of goo burst into the open, but this time, it isn’t precum - instead, it’s off-white seed that spurts and splatters onto Azura’s face. Her expression reads as annoyed discomfort as jet after jet of cum coat her in a layer of spooge, until eventually, your climax recedes. Hesitantly she opens her eyes, taking care that the fluids on her forehead don’t dribble over her eyelids. She looks almost hopeful, expectant, and she opens her mouth - no doubt to ask if you are satisfied and ready to let her go. However, you are still firmly erect - and there is plenty of pent-up load left inside of you. Who has time for sex when you’re trying to end a blight? You don’t even give her the opportunity to get out a single syllable before you tightly grasp her hair, and brutally jam your cock between her parted lips. She gags - and you grin.

Obviously you don’t get it all in one go. You’ve barely made contact with her tonsils when her jaw clamps shut - a bit painful, maybe, but nothing compared to the wounds you just sustained in the prior battle. You press Keening’s crystalline edge against her throat again to give another firm reminder of who is in charge here, and she obediently loosens up. You pull back until the rim of your glans just barely pops out of her lips, and then you thrust again - and again. For an omnipotent goddess, she sure has a gag reflex. With every thrust, she coughs and sputters, drooling spit down her chin, where it mixes with your previous load and soaks down onto her chest. Finally, you find the right angle to shove your cock past her tonsils and into the back of her throat. She gags loudly, the wet sound echoing throughout the whole cavern, and leaps into a coughing fit. Nevertheless, you keep going - do goddesses even need to breathe, after all?

With every buck of your hips, you find yourself a bit deeper, an inch further down. With every buck of her hips, her gags grow louder and more violent, ever-increasingly futile attempts at pushing you back. Her resistance only makes your penis harder. Eventually, thanks to the advances of your short, quick thrusts, you hilt the entirety of your cock inside of her - you feel her warm, jizz-coated face pressing against your stomach, leaving its imprint there. A mix of spit, phlegm, precum and seed drips down your balls. Slowly you pull her back, back, back, until you pull out of her throat with an audible ‘pop’. You don’t even look down to see what her emotional state is - you don’t even give her throat the chance to recover, to tighten up again. You immediately thrust back in, with your entire length. Again. Again. For several minutes you keep up the brutal throat rape, until eventually, she doesn’t even have the strength to gag anymore. For the second time, you reach your limit, and there is no reason to hold back now.

With a final forceful buck you hilt yourself inside her gullet, and even before you make it, ropes of creamy jizz splatter out onto the walls of her throat. It feels so good you end up dropping Keening, and it loudly clatters onto the cavern floor - you need to hold on to Azura’s head with both hands if you don’t want your knees to give out. Having two hands there also helps to keep her in place should she decide to give a resistant sputter again. But, even as what seems like an endlessly gushing torrent of cum pours down her throat, she shows no resistance. She is still conscious, obviously - you can feel the rapid, heated breath from her nostrils against your stomach. It’s almost as if she wants this. This, specifically. As if…

You blink. As Azura’s charm spell wears off, you come back to your senses. Suddenly you realize why words seemed to leap out of your mouth, why you began doing this in the first place - she had been controlling you this whole time! Keening was never actually a threat to her, was it? You look down and make eye contact, and from the knowing glint in her eyes, you can tell that you’re right. Yet you can’t stop cumming. It’s like there is a vacuum inside of her, sucking every drop of semen out of you even as your balls begin to feel painfully empty. Now you really begin to feel weak at the knees. How long have you been ejaculating now…?!

By the time she lets you finish, you are already completely flaccid, and all that’s keeping you on your feet are her hands on your hips. With one slow, long, final slurp, she pulls herself off your cock, and then she looks up at you with that warm, motherly smile. The expression feels a lot more disturbing now than it did before, and that is only partially because it’s still coated in dried-up jizz. “There, Incarnate. A fitting reward for a champion of your caliber - the illusion of control. Call upon me in your dreams, and I may reach down my hand again...” You might, honestly. Your balls ache to the point where you’re honestly not sure you will be able to derive pleasure from anything else ever again. Slowly, Azura fades away, leaving you to slump to your knees in the cavern. Well… At least you can’t say all you got for your troubles was a lousy ring.


End file.
